Tag Archives: love

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Chalcedony

Many of my trinkets are rocks. Agates or calcedny nodules or lots of others. Fossil snails and fossil clams.

This agate initially looks better on the ground.

But wait, let’s turn it.

Half clear and half clouded. I found this one on Marrowstone Island.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: trinket.

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Rock rasp

There is a raspy sound when the beach is pebbles and the waves wash in and they rasp together. It is a singing clicking rasp. Beautiful!

I walk Marrowstone Island early yesterday, since there is a very low tide in the morning and it was sunny and gorgeous. The clear agates light up.

This one is clear in the center. I have to dig it out of the mud flat with another rock.

Turn again.

There, isn’t it beautiful with the light shining through?

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: raspy.

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Nature Song

This is the first song I think of with today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt: onomatopoeia. This song sounds like kids playing and speeds up like kids do and all the laughter, about being outside. Wonderful! I love the Sweet Honey in the Rock kids’ records as well as adult records and my kids did too.

Here is an adult song followed by the kids’ song and circling back to the difficult adult part.

I took the photograph at the Centrum Jazz Port Townsend Concert, the Matthew Whittaker Quintet. Wow, wonderful.

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Bucking trends

Terrible photograph, right? But look for the deer. Two can be seen, and there was a third, another fawn.

First I see the buck in my yard.

Buck eating apples in a driveway.

Then I see him across the street with two fawns. I didn’t get a good picture of all three. But he did that deer thing where they tell the fawns to stay put. I go over to that neighbor’s house for coffee and here are the fawns.

Fawn lying under an apple tree on a lawn.

This is the second year that I have seen a buck with fawns. This time two fawns. The fawns are still spotted but about twice the size of newborns.

I don’t know if the buck is babysitting for the day or if something happened to mom. The fawns don’t move when I walk past and go in the house. I only see the second one because I am looking for it. This is a busy street, but the deer are pretty safe as long as they don’t get hit by a car. We have to pay attention in the early morning and twilight. The deer do teach the fawns to cross at crosswalks too, at least, the moms with fawns are. I think the big bucks have decided they can cross where ever they want.

“White-tailed deer mate in the fall (October – December). The male deer (buck) plays no role in raising fawns.” from here: https://dnr.maryland.gov/wildlife/Pages/plants_wildlife/Deer_Fawn_FAQ.aspx. That is a different species. Ok, try information on Washington deer: “Adult bucks take no part in raising fawns, and generally remain solitary or form bachelor groups throughout the summer.” from here: https://wdfw.wa.gov/species-habitats/living/species-facts/deer#. Apparently our deer have not read the manual. Or maybe those two spotted ones are males, but I can’t really tell yet.

Our deer are bucking the trend, aren’t they? Deershines instead of monkeyshines?

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: monkeyshines.

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Enemy

A friend and I are talking this morning and he is talking about praying daily. “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us”. That turns into a discussion of enemies and ourselves. It’s easier to have an external enemy identified than to deal with ourselves, isn’t it? Here is today’s poem.

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Enemy

Do you have an enemy?

Do I have an enemy?

maybe I have no enemy
I have people I have forgiven
I have people who I have asked to forgive me
I have people I have forgiven
but keep distanced
no reconciliation
possible if they continue abuse
blind and deaf
saying “We are righteous!”
over and over to each other

A book teaches me
asks what are you most proud of
in yourself?
Three things:
strong, smart, tough.
The mirror is what you fear the most
weak, foolish, vulnerable
I shy back, hate the author
and he is correct
at least for me

Like the sutra
sometimes I am weak
sometimes I am foolish
sometimes I am vulnerable

When there is a person
or people
I want to hate
What aspect of myself
of my past
of my psyche
are they bringing up?
Are they stronger, smarter, tougher?
Are they weaker, foolish, more vulnerable?
Why do I want to hate them?

It’s easier, I see
to hate another person
and cast them out like a demon
then to look in the mirror
and see the aspect of myself
that I long so much
to hate

That demon
once cast out
will return with seven more

Mirror mirror
on the wall
tell my why
the angels fall

if an angel gets it’s wings
every time a bell rings
each time we hate another, as well
an angel falls heaven to hell

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Names

Last night I go to the Cowboy Ball, replete with cupcakes. It is the kick off of our local county fair, which is in two weeks. There is an hour two-step lesson and then a really fun band. The crowd is very mixed. There are some people who can two step, though not very many. There are some people faking it. After a while there are people dancing six count swing or tango or salsa, but everyone waltzes when they play the waltzes. It’s not quite a polka.

One dance partner asks, “Are you the poet doctor?” I blink. “Yes,” I say, pleased. “Which open mike were you at?” “Disco Bay.” I have done four there in the last three months, three at the poetry open mike and one at a music open mike. I was assured that they want poets too at the latter. Ok, then. “And what do you play?” I ask, because it must have been the music open mike. “Drums.” He is with a band that I know. “When do you play again?” He wrinkles his forehead. “I’d have to check my calendar.” “Get back to me!” I say and he says, “Thanks.” All this while dancing. We are doing some two step, falling into swing whenever one of us messes up a step.

I am nicknamed the dancing doctor by the coffee stand at the Farmer’s Market. She writes that on my cup. They are right next to the outdoor “stage”. I try to lure small children out to dance, solo since they don’t know me. They are wonderfully free and fun when they do come out.

I am pretty thrilled to be the poet doctor! We will see if that sticks in this community.

The photograph is Simon Lynge and Janna Marit two weeks ago at the Farmer’s Market. And here is the coffee stand.


And look! The poster for the Cowboy Dance in the lower left!

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For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: community.

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Child memories

This photograph is from a box sent by my cousin. My sister Chris and my mother Helen. On the back it says “pear tree”. My mother would try to assemble the parts of the Twelve Days of Christmas. When I was in my teens, she would hang glittery pears on her avocado tree that she had grown from a seed. One partridge, two calling birds. She had seven tiny glass swans that she would set swimming on a mirror lake, with white fluff around it for snow. I don’t think she got past seven. My mother had wonderful traditions that she developed for Christmas. She loved the old carols and wouldn’t sing the modern ones at all.

I think my grandfather or grandmother took this photograph. I thought, why isn’t it square? But it isn’t: it was cut from a page and is a bit of a trapezoid.

My sister is about four, so this would be from around 1968.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: children.